Le Stinky French Comedy

Daniel Auteuil. How il me dazzle avec his annual portrayal of a cold, repressed homme who finds his inner warm fuzzy. And there's that fabulous nose of his that runs on a severe diagonal. J'enjoy that he's famous sans adhering to les boring standards of beauty. Not to mention he was married to the formerly chaude Manon of the Spring, Emanuelle Beart, who filled her lips with Michelin tires to do Mission: Impossible. It's like beauty and the beast, only he's beauty now. With my petit naivete streak avec le scandal Spitzer, how can I believe le Daniel hasn't had chirurgie plastique lui-meme?

But, Daniel, pourquoi does he make the trite movie Mon Meilleur Ami? My French upbringing forces me into viewings of le cinema francais and sometimes, je fais le mauvais choix. What is Mon Meilleur Ami? Oh, le cold Frenchman, he has no amis. For some spontaneous reason, his colleagues challenge him to trouver un friend. All his choices reject him, except for the quirky taxi driver. Cold Frenchman screws over Monsieur Taxi, but says he's desolay at the end. Somehow, ils reconcile! Quel surprise! Dish will always profess amour for the Auteuil and now chantes the praises of Dany Boon, whose on-screen panic is tres realistique. Bonnes performances, but scenario merdique.